


Stargate Atlantis - Recovery

by Shadow_Chaser



Series: Stargate Atlantis Alternate Season 3 [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: ATA Gene, Aftermath of Resurrection, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Atlantis really likes Sheppard, Furlings, Gen, Sentient Atlantis, alternate season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-11
Updated: 2009-11-11
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:13:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately after "Sleep Before I Do." Elizabeth deals with the aftermath of a mission gone wrong and a tenuous alliance with the Furlings. Meanwhile John deals with the ramifications of his death and how it affects Atlantis. Shep/Weir friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stargate Atlantis - Recovery

Stargate Atlantis: Sleep Before I Do: Recovery

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Title:** Sleep Before I Do: Recovery

**Author:** Shadow Chaser

**Disclaimer:** Stargate SG-1  & Stargate Atlantis and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions, AcmeShark Productions, and Scifi Channel. This story is for amusement only and I didn’t get any money for it. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary:** Immediately after the events of _Sleep Before I Do_ , Elizabeth Weir has to deal with the aftermath of the mission gone wrong, the death of so many civilians and military members of the expedition and the tenuous alliance with the Furlings.  Meanwhile, John Sheppard deals with the ramifications of his death from the Wraith'gul and discovers something quite interesting about his unique Ancient gene in relation to Atlantis herself.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Content Warnings:** None (but PG-13 because of dark themes).

**Spoilers:** Up to Season 3's _Phantoms_ (everything after that makes this story AU)

**Category:** Drama, H/C (aftermath comfort)

**Pairings:** None (though if you're a Shep/Weir or Shep/Teyla fan, its mostly blink and you'll miss it moments.)

**Notes:** This could have been placed after the end of _Sleep Before I Do_ , but I felt like since it was focused on what had happened in the events of the story instead of part of the story itself, I decided to shift this to a one-shot add-on.

            One final note: I may end up going back to this story and rewriting parts only because I wrote this in a two-week span where I was under some serious personal stress and thus my writing style has a tendency to shift and change.  But we’ll see…

 

**Story:**

 

            Dr. Elizabeth Weir stared at the blinking cursor on her laptop, a frown on her face.  Her eyes read over what she had written, but her mind did not quite absorb it.  After a few minutes, she made a small noise of frustration before hitting the backspace button holding it as it erased all of the text that she had spent the last half hour writing.

            It was the fourth time in the past three hours she had been trying to compose her final report for Stargate Command and the IOA to read.  There was no particular due date for the report since it was contingent on Colonel Sheppard's final report, but Elizabeth wished she was done with it by now.  Of all of the finalized mission reports she had written, why was this one so hard?

            Almost everyone save for the four marines on the initial rescue team and a couple of civilian scientists on Major Lorne and Captain Pearson's teams had come back alive.  They had finally found the fabled Furlings, the fourth race of the Great Alliance that had been made so long ago.  They had stopped the Pegasus galaxy's equivalent of the Dakara superweapon; so what was wrong with writing all of that into the report?

            The answer was nothing, but Elizabeth wasn't clinical in her reports like John or any of the other military personnel.  She liked putting her thoughts and defending her opinion of what had gone on during thee missions and it gave her a chance to defend her own decisions in case the IOA put up a fuss.

            So what was the issue then...?

            A gentle knock on the frame of her door made her look up to see Dr. Carson Beckett, her chief of medical standing by the threshold.  “Come in,” she smiled warmly gestured to love seats in front of her desk, “what can I do for you Carson?”  She had not booked anyone for an appointment in the afternoon, leaving herself with some time to write her report, but she always had an open door policy for anyone who wanted to drop by and talk or to give her updates.

            “I wanted to let you know that Colonel Sheppard just awakened and so far there are no reported ill effects from his exposure to the Wraith'gul or to the sarcophagus.  I'll be keeping him under observation for the next two weeks, but I think if he feels better in a couple of days, he can be released for light duty,” Carson smiled, clasping his hands together.

            “That's good to hear,” Elizabeth felt as if a pressure had been released from her.  She had been worried ever since Carson had dialed the stargate from M3R-154 and rushed both Colonel Sheppard and the human-formed Klisan'thus Apollo through both of them in grave straits.  While she was concerned for both, her more immediate concern was for John.

            When Carson had told her how they had found John, with Rodney and Teyla filling in the blanks, they did not know if he would survive the night.  However, John proved as resilient as ever, pulling through the night, but having stayed in a coma since then.  During the two weeks that John had been out, Elizabeth had fielded suggestions that they ship him back to Stargate Command for evaluation, or even for an SG team to find a sarcophagus to finish the job that it had started.  But that idea had been shot down after she had talked with Commandant Artemis and found out that there was a distinct difference between the two types of sarcophagus.

            However, any appeal to the Furlings to perhaps procure another one to finish healing John was met with stony resistance and the diplomatic answer that said technically Artemis had disobeyed the High Council and went without their blessing to help Arileon Apollo's mission.  And even then there was still the sticky situation of the fact that Taethos had never been found since Major Lorne and his teams had searched the area where the life sign had been detected and found a subcutaneous transmitter that Artemis had said once belonged to the rogue Furling.

            That meant that Taethos was still alive and out there, but the Furling High Council did not seem inclined to do anything about it.  However, a small consolation was the fact that Ladon Radim had reported that they had successfully captured Acastus Kolya and the man was currently sitting in jail, his attempted rebellion quelled with a fierce firefight and many lives lost on both sides.  Ladon had even offered her a spot on the Judging Council that was going to prosecute the rogue Genii.  She had told him that she would consider the offer.

            Artemis had immediately asked of the Klisan'thus who had gone through to help with the assault on the Genii homeworld and Ladon had reported that all of them were killed in the firefight, but he would be more than happy to return their bodies to the Furling government in exchange for perhaps some help in rebuilding the area around the stargate and helping the farmers regain their lands.  The two had agreed to the agreement threading another new line in alliance with the reclusive and mysterious fourth race.

            Immediately afterwards, Artemis had asked her to dial the Furling homeworld to allow her men to return home and for her to send aid to the Genii.  It was only yesterday that she had returned once more, demanding that they release Apollo into her care so he can die with dignity instead of lingering in a half-state of being artificially kept alive.

            That was the sticking point at the moment.  “And our other patient?” she looked at Carson who grimaced slightly.

            “Still the same unfortunately,” Carson shook his head,  “I don't even know that much about Furling physiology even in their human forms there are some differences, besides blood type, color, and content, but there's been no change since I've scanned him last night.”

            “Did Artemis come by and offer any help?” she asked.  She knew that both Artemis and Apollo, like Greek mythology, were siblings, but that was where the difference ended.  According to Artemis, Apollo was her half-brother, having an Alteran father and Furling mother.  And based on what she knew and from her brief conversations with the leader of the Agentus, it seemed that their relationship was strained at best.  She suspected it was probably something to do with their familial relationship with each other, but it still did not explain why Artemis had all of the sudden offered a strike force to help them and why she seemed to love her brother for a second then completely disowned him the next.

            “She stopped by, but it was only for a few minutes before she left.  I think she went to her guest quarters,” Carson replied.

            Elizabeth nodded absently, “I'll talk with her again.”  Even though she knew that the IOA would eventually tell her to acquiesce to Artemis' wishes, she was still going to put up a hell of a fight and she knew Carson would do the same.  The Furling had helped them, save most of her men, and based on what the others said about him, he had a quiet sense of dignity and sacrifice that belied his Furling nature.  Apollo seemed more similar to them than to his brethren and she was willing to fight Artemis on those grounds.

            “Thank you,” Carson gave her a brief smile before clasping his hands, “I believe his team is currently visiting Colonel Sheppard, but should I inform the nurses that you may be making a quick visit yourself later on?”

            She looked up, surprised, but didn't let it show on her face.  She knew that her CMO was very observant, and though she had only sat by John's side about four days in the past two weeks, she had made sure that she was still doing work then, instead of just watching him, waiting for him to wake up.  She knew that Teyla constantly sat with John, almost every single day, but for Carson to pick up on the fact...

            “Don't worry love,” Carson's eyes lit up with mirth, “I won't tell anyone, least of all the Colonel.”

            Elizabeth nodded before tilting her head to the side, “I'll probably stop by later tonight so I'm not disturbing your other patients.  Let him get some more rest before he thinks I'm bothering him with paperwork.”

            “I'm sure he doesn't think of it that way,” a frown formed as his eyebrows crinkled in concerned.

            “With John, you never know,” Elizabeth shook her head, “but thank you.”

            “Any time,” Carson smiled again before leaving her office.

            Elizabeth sat in silence for a few minutes before pushing away from her desk and getting up.  She headed to the control room adjoining her office and saw both Sergeant Chuck Raymond and Amelia Banks on duty look up from their stations.  “I'm headed our guests' quarters.  Radio me if anyone needs to talk to me.”

            “Yes ma'am,” Amelia replied and Chuck nodded before she headed out of the control room and down the sweeping stairs, passing the stargate on her way to the transportation rooms.

            She wanted to find Artemis and at least try to convince her that they still had a chance of saving Apollo, that they weren't ready to give up on him yet.

                                                *                      *                      *

            Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was most definitely not ready to give up on his potential...escape.  From the infirmary.  He had awakened a couple of hours after his teammates left to a nurse checking his saline bag and IV line and had turned up the charm to try to wheedle his way out of stay in the infirmary for another forty-eight hours.  However, the nurse, a pretty Asian, had just smiled at his flirting and left, blushing slightly, but without any answer on whether or not he was going to be discharged that night.

            So John had been staring around the infirmary for the past hour, just watching the nurses and doctors on duty walking in and out, occasionally seeing some of the other members of the military come in for various cuts or bruises, some looking like they were Ronon inflicted.  However, his bed was located in a more private area of the infirmary, so the men under his command couldn't quite see him.

            However, he did notice that more than once, a nurse had pointed towards his area with a smile on his or her face and felt oddly touched and self conscious that everyone was asking about his health.  He was going to have to needle Lorne about it when he was finally discharged – probably along the lines of perhaps pushing command from himself and onto a sick patient or something.

            But most of the people walking in and out of the infirmary were the civilian scientists, cuts bruises, and he thought he saw one from the botany department holding a very thorny plant and bleeding from the forearm.  That had been quite interesting, watching the nurses scramble along with the doctor on duty, a recently arrived young dirty-blonde haired woman named Dr. Jennifer Keller, to contain the situation.

            John didn't know her really well, but had already seen several of the base personnel smitten with her young beauty and intellect to boot.  Her file had said that she was a child prodigy and a gifted doctor of internal medicine despite her young age.  Then again, most profiles on the civilians of the expedition contain the words geniuses or prodigies.

            So he was currently amusing himself watching Keller handle the situation like a mostly calm pro, still a bit flustered at times, but he chalked it up to her being new to the Pegasus galaxy.  He had even heard that Carson was thinking of making her his second-in-command CMO, but wanted her to get her Pegasus legs as he called it, first.  He had not taken another look at the bed patient in the corner of his area, refusing to even think about the state Apollo was in...  He did not want to remind himself that it was mostly his fault for putting the Furling in the condition he was in.

            The corner of his eyes suddenly caught a hint of movement followed by familiar greys and blues of the Atlantis military personnel jacket and he turned his head slightly to see the familiar stocky build of his second-in-command, Major Evan Lorne.  “Lorne,” he greeted congenially as the man stopped near his bed and threw him a casual salute.

            John returned it with a flick of his right hand, his left arm covered in bandages on his left bicep and IV line stuck by the crook of his elbow.

            “Good to see you awake sir, Ronon told me,” Lorne looked a bit sweaty and he figured the man had just come from probably a sparring session in the gym with the big Satedan.

            “You're not with the line of men and women walking in with bruises?” he cracked a crooked smile.

            “No sir,” Lorne rocked back on his heels, a grin on his face, “managed not to get too heavily bruised today.  Had the young ones go a few rounds with him though.”

            “Ouch,” John winced.  He knew from experience how Ronon usually dealt with the cocky younger military personnel who thought that they could take the opportunity and beat him up.  “Though I have to say, I've noticed several asking about me...what, don't want the command?”

            “Not really sir,” Lorne blushed slightly looking down on the ground, “I prefer to explore.”  However, when he raised his head again, John saw that his expression had turned serious and he looked a bit uncomfortable.

            “I'm just kidding Major,” John loved ribbing the other military personnel, Lorne especially, the two of them having gotten along well since the man's posting to Atlantis after the Wraith had been driven back the first time.

            “Yes sir,” Lorne nodded, but he suspected that it wasn't what he was he was uncomfortable about.  The only times he knew his second-in-command to feel nervous was when he was unsure about a critical situation or was extremely uneasy and felt an ambush coming up.  The man had a good head and good eye for commanding, especially since his two-year stint with the SGC prior to his posting on Atlantis.  Whatever was making him nervous usually ended up making John nervous...

            “Spit it out,” there was no ambush situation, no mention of recent Wraith attacks, and he was pretty sure, or at least 99.9% sure that he wasn't in a Replicator infested Atlantis-look alike.

            “Sir...” Lorne swallowed before standing at parade rest, arms clasped behind him, feet spread to shoulder width, “permission to speak freely?”

            John frowned, nodding cautiously.  Whatever was making Lorne edgy was definitely personal and maybe, maybe, related to him.  He racked his brains for anything that he had done in the past few months that could have annoyed Lorne or even pissed him off.  Nothing came to mind...except...

            “This is about the Ancient gene, right?” it was the only thing in the past few weeks that made any sense.

            Lorne's placement in Atlantis was no coincidence.  Stargate Command wanted almost everyone who had the Ancient gene naturally to be on Atlantis, but also within the confines of having no other family or significant other attached to them.  Besides being the new head of Homeland Security, it was rumored that Colonel O'Neill was seeing someone, perhaps even engaged already and thus was not included on the list of those who had the Ancient gene naturally to be shipped off to Atlantis.

            John knew from Lorne's files sent to him from the SGC that Lorne had been engaged to a young Captain who was working at the Air Force Academy's hospital, but the relationship had ended badly before he requested a transfer out of the SGC and to a different military base.  Luckily the SGC made the decision to ship him to Atlantis, far away from Earth, but still part of the SGC.

            “Yes sir,” the stocky soldier nodded once, a bit stiffly, “more specifically to do with the Wraith'gul.”

            Oh boy, here it came, John thought with dread.  Rodney had tried to pry the answer of how he was able to shut the Wraith'gul down, but John had refused to answer, not ready to face up to what had happened within the machine.  However, he did hear from the others that Lorne had thought he had heard voices when he tried to make sure that the superweapon was completely shut down.

            “I get the creeps near that thing,” John said the first thing that came to his mind, trying to stall.

            Lorne nodded, “So do I...but none of the other civilians or military personnel with the natural gene would touch it.  Dr. Beckett refused any of his medical personnel with the natural gene to even go back to the planet.”

            “So we've established that it affects natural gene carriers,” that was completely and utterly swell in John's sarcastic opinion.  The thing had already killed him and now Lorne was telling him that it still gave off those creepy-feeling vibes.

            “Yes sir,” Lorne shifted his feet, “sir...I don't know if you heard, but...when we were trying to find you, I...heard a voice in my head, directing me.  It wasn't, really talking with me, but more like...whispering an impulse of sorts...”

            John could see the hidden fear and worry on the Major's face.  Lorne was worried that he would order him for a psych evaluation, declared unfit for duty all because he had heard voices near the Wraith'gul.  He wasn't too sure how strong the natural gene was within Lorne, but it was definitely stronger than Carson's, though probably not as strong as his or General O'Neill's.

            “And you heard the voice again when you tried to shut down the critical systems?” he asked.

            “Yes sir,” Lorne opened his mouth, “I swear, sir, I'm not crazy and I've been to see Dr. Heightmeyer-”

            “Relax, Major,” John waved him back as best as he could with his right arm to his at ease position, “just lining up the facts.”

            “Yes sir,” Lorne murmured.

            John looked down for a second, deep in thought.  There was a chance Elizabeth already knew of what Lorne had experienced.  The IOA would go ape shit over the two most senior military personnel “hearing voices” from the weapon and demand that Stargate Command put someone else in charge.  Many of the other scientists and his own men were to skittish around the thing to even test out that possibility, though John knew he could order it from the military, but even he didn't want to subject them to that scrutiny.  He could only hope that Elizabeth hadn't reported any of that to the IOA or the SGC...

            John sighed softly.  He knew Lorne was scared, hell even he would be scared that he was losing it if he was the only one who could hear unseen voices from a weapon that was determined to kill everyone.  “You're not going crazy, Major,” he finally said quietly, still staring at his blankets.

            “...Sir?”

            John looked up and gave him a sardonic lopsided smile, “It talked to me too.”

            A blink of eyes, followed by a beat of hesitation before John saw a minuscule relief filling his second-in-command's face.  “Yes sir...”  Answer satisfied, he made a move to leave when John stopped him.

            “Just...don't mention this on the report, all right?  Until we have more concrete evidence,” John somehow knew that he would have to return that damned planet in order to confirm his suspicions.

            “Yes sir,” Lorne nodded once before heading out, the stiffness in his gait loosened just slightly.

            John was left alone again and rubbed his forehead with his right hand.  Great, how was he going to explain this one to Elizabeth and Carson without sounding like he had lost his mental faculties?  He frowned again as he thought he heard a tinkling musical laughter filling the silence left behind by Lorne.

            Oh this was definitely a big help.  Now he thought he was hearing voices not even _near_ the Wraith'gul.

                                                *                      *                      *

            Carson was indeed correct that Artemis had retreated to her guest quarters in Atlantis; her Marine guard was stationed just outside her door, standing at attention.  Elizabeth nodded a greeting to him which was returned with a brief smile before she knocked gently on the door.  “Artemis, it's Dr. Weir, may I come in?”

            “Enter,” was the curt reply and the Marine guard waved the door open.

            She walked in, eyes adjusting to the spectacular brightness of the room.  They had given Artemis quarters with a full view of the North-eastern pier and she had apparently thrown back the curtains, drawing every inch of Lantean sunlight into the room.  She found the human-formed Furling standing by the balcony connected to her room, staring out into the endless ocean.

            “I hope I was not disturbing you or anything,” Elizabeth tried quietly as she approached her, resting her arms on the barrier of the balcony.

            “My answer is still no,” Artemis did not look at her, continuing to stare out at the seascape, “I know you are here to persuade me otherwise.”

            “I am just here to ask your reasoning, not to persuade you nor-”

            Artemis suddenly laughed lightly, “Dr. Weir, you are as much of a politician as those of the High Council.  Do not flatter me with your words.  I have been in the field of politics and the field of a warrior for far longer than your human years.”

            Elizabeth pursed her lips for a second before tilting her head slightly, “Then can you at least tell me why?”  Flowery words were not going to work on the blunt Furling.  She had learned that the first time she had met Artemis when she went to their homeworld a couple of weeks ago.

            There was silence from the beautiful woman for a few seconds before she sighed softly and turned to face her, “My species are long-lived, almost immortal if no injury is suffered nor any serious illness that cannot be cured by our sarcophagus.  When one of us knows that it is the end of their life, it is a curious thing.  It is even more so if it is from one of the younger members of the Klisan'thus.”

            She turned slightly and leaned her elbow against the railing, “Arileon Apollo has become a symbol amongst our people when it was leaked by someone from the Agentus or perhaps the High Council that he was dying.  The nature of his condition has also become a warning to the rest of the younger, more rebellious ones who do not yet understand the dangers of shapeshifting.”

            “So you want to return him so he can be a pariah?  A martyr?” Elizabeth didn't like the fact that he was being turned into a symbol, after everything he had done for them.

            “Perhaps, if you wish to see it that way,” Artemis stared at her curiously, “but as far as I see it, this will end his suffering instead of keeping him in a half-state.  You must also understand, he will become more of a symbol than he could ever be if he survived his mission.”

            “I don't-”

            “Of course you do not understand.  But do you not have fellow Tau'ri who are considered...rogues within your government and military?”

            Elizabeth wasn't too sure that it was the word Artemis was searching for, but she decided to humor her, “Yes, but they are put into jail and punished for their crimes.”

            “Not the word I was searching for,” the woman sighed before rubbing her forehead, “the Arileon is a special case.  Many would see him falter in his duties.  Many would want it.  He is considered...outcast from society and will never have the glory many in his position will have when they join the Agentus.  His return will give him the respect he deserves.”

            Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest Artemis' reasoning when she hesitated, hearing something in the Commandant's words that made her pause.  The woman was Apollo's half-sister; disdainful and abrasive with her brother, showing little respect, but ultimately brought her own strike forces to help him with his mission.  There were plenty of other military or civilian positions Apollo could have gone to in the Furling society, she was sure of that at least, but he had chosen the Agentus.

            She realized that this was Artemis' way of giving the respect her brother deserved without being forthright about it.  She loved her brother, but it had to be quashed because of his status as a half-Alteran, half-Furling.  Artemis could not show her love and affection without damaging her own reputation or position in the Furling government or end up ostracizing herself.  She knew that her position was vital to her own brother's protection and safety, even though she had to be harsh with him, to give him impossible tasks, and seemingly suicidal missions...

            That was why she had  personally lead the strike force, that was why she had secretly sought her out after the rest of the High Council had dismissed her concerns.  The Furlings were willing to sacrifice the Atlantis expedition members and the possibility of dying from the Wraith'gul by Taethos' hand all to get rid of someone who wasn't one of _them_ ; a pesky impure part of their race...

            And now they were getting their wish.  Sort of.  Getting it, but also giving him a hero's funeral all because of Artemis' influence and power on the High Council.  Elizabeth stared at the woman, closing her mouth shut.  How much had this woman sacrificed for her brother?  To make sure that he would be remembered so?

            The more dangerous question was: did Apollo know what was going to happen and made his sacrifice as so?

            “I...understand,” she finally said after a few minutes, feeling a bit awkward, “if you'll excuse me.”

            She hurried away from her, heading out of the door and towards the infirmary.  She had the urge to see Apollo and to seek out Carson, to let him know that they would be releasing him to Artemis' custody.  It was in ways, very much like old samurai honor, the Furling was playing at, and for all of her diplomatic efforts, and she knew that she would respect this aspect.

                                                *                      *                      *

            John was a little wigged out.  Check that, a little more than wigged out.  The little grey Asgard, Hermiod was in the infirmary, standing next to Apollo's bed.  It wasn't the fact that the Asgard were a genderless race thus had no need for clothing (that had taken him the whole two and half weeks on the _Daedalus_ for the first time to get used to), but it was the fact that he had never seen the Asgard set foot on Atlantis, much less even be in the infirmary.

            It was a little disconcerting...and creepy...and weird...and-

            John's thoughts immediately trailed off as he turned his gaze up towards the ceiling as Hermiod twisted his head slightly to stare back at him.  However, he did hear a small stream of noise issue from the Asgard's mouth as out of the corner of his eye he saw the little grey alien turn back to look at Apollo.  He wanted to ask what the Asgard's connection to Apollo was to make him actually come down from the _Daedalus_ , but his question probably wouldn't go over so well with him...

            Maybe he could ask McKay the next time he came to visit, without the question about the Wraith'gul and its voices-in-his-head questioning.  The man had the uncanny ability to figure out things and wheedle answers out of everyone else to add to his vast encyclopedic knowledge.  Or even Teyla – she also had that ability, except it made people more prone to talk to her and be nice to her than to get frustrated and angry at McKay.

            A sudden movement in the front area of the infirmary made him lift his head slightly, straining to see who it was and indeed saw Carson and Elizabeth in a hushed, but heated discussion.  He saw more than once, arms and hands gestured towards his area and briefly wondered if they were talking about him, but he had a suspicious feeling that it was probably about Apollo.

            His suspicions were confirmed as the two came over, Carson with a stormy look on his face and Elizabeth with a neutral, but pinched look on her face.  “Hi,” he tested out hesitantly as the two neared the area and immediately the stormy look disappeared from Carson's face.

            “How are you feeling?” Carson headed towards his bed as Elizabeth hung behind him.  Part of him was glad that she hadn't come forward and greeted him.  He still vividly remembered the hallucination he had while under whatever Taethos had injected into him.  Getting over Teyla nearly jumping him was a bit easier then getting over Elizabeth ordering him to his death on a suicide mission.  Especially since he knew that she had that capability.  He still wasn't quite ready to face that.

            “Better,” he gestured with his head as best as he could to Apollo's bed, “the little dude's been here though...kind of creepy if you ask me.”

            Immediately he saw their expedition leader walk forward and towards Hermiod, gently engaging him in conversation.  “What's...” he trailed off as Carson put on his stethoscope and he quieted, breathing deeply against the cool round metal piece on his chest.

            Several seconds later, the doctor took off the stethoscope and hung it back around his neck.  “Elizabeth's given the go-ahead to disconnect Apollo from the machines and return him to the Furlings.”

            “Why?” as far as John knew, Elizabeth would never voluntarily let anyone who needed medical help or even had asked for sanctuary, go.  “The IOA ordered it?”

            “No,” Carson sighed heavily, “apparently Commandant Artemis has been adamant about letting Apollo return to his people to die peacefully instead of being cared for and hopefully recover from his coma eventually.”

            “So she's just going to allow this?”

            “She's been stalling for the last two weeks,” he looked across to where Elizabeth and Hermiod were talking quietly.  Somehow, John was amazed at how she managed to look completely at ease with talking with the small humanoid when he knew that she was as unnerved as he was.  Must be her diplomatic training, he supposed.  “I guess Artemis told her something this time that convinced her.”

            “Your leader is honorable, should you not respect her wishes?” an imperious voice spoke up near them and John saw Carson start before he looked towards the speaker.  Immediately the first word that popped into his head was that the woman was...well, hot.  She had long wavy-curly dark brown hair and a fair complexion.  Her long lashes framed her brown eyes and her features were somewhat Grecian.  She could have had a seductive smile had her lips not be in a pencil-thin frown directed at them.

            “Commandant Artemis,” Carson greeted, and John thought he saw a hint of blush on the doctor's face.  Well, Carson was certainly right that Artemis was a fine looking woman...Furling.

            And somehow, he could imagine her as the head of the Agentus and Apollo's commanding officer.  It made sense in a way.  If Taethos was rakishly handsome, and Apollo was a different kind of handsome, one he knew his ex-wife would fall for at the drop of a hat, then wouldn't it suit the Furlings that the whole damned race be a race of pretty people in human form?

            “Dr. Beckett,” she stopped by the foot of his bed, her gaze still severe, “has Dr. Weir explained the situation to you?”

            “Yes,” Carson frowned a bit, the blush already gone, “and I must officially voice my protest at the release of Arileon Apollo to the Furlings.  I believe he still can be saved, just give him some more time.”

            The brown eyes narrowed slightly, “It is well documented amongst my people that once the process happens, no life can be saved.  I appreciate your efforts at keeping him alive this long, but it is time my people and his family be allowed to pay their respects.  He is a hero amongst the Furlings for his efforts in preventing Taethos from firing the Wraith'gul.  I can assure you, Doctor, he will be buried with the highest honors.”

            “I don't care about the honors, Commandant, I care about that he is still alive.  I-”

            “Carson,” Elizabeth suddenly appeared and placed a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off, “please...”

            “Commandant Artemis,” Hermiod's nasal voice spoke up and all looked down next to Elizabeth's left side to see the short Asgard staring up at the woman, his bulbous black eyes blinking once.  “It is good to see you again, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

            “Supreme Commander Hermiod, it has been a while, perhaps two-thousand years?” Artemis greeted and John's eyes widened slightly.  Two thousand years?!  Just how old were these Furlings?!  And even the Asgard!  And Supreme Commander?  As far as he knew, the only Supreme Commander was Thor himself, the Asgard's main ambassador and liaison with the SGC.  And he was pretty high up on the Asgard fleet, even commanding huge battle groups during their war with the Replicators.

            “No more a Supreme Commander, Commandant,” Hermiod shook his large head slightly; “I am just a liaison aboard the human warship, _Daedalus_.”

            “Forgive me then,” for once, John saw her face go from cold, stony haughtiness to something akin to a friendly face, but just as fast the expression was wiped away.  “Have you finished paying your respects Hermiod?”

            “I have,” somehow, John had the feeling that the little Asgard was also not happy about the situation, though probably for different reasons.  However, it was somewhat refreshing.  Hermiod turned to look up at Elizabeth, “I wish you well, Dr. Weir, and to you Dr. Beckett.  Your efforts are commendable.”

            He turned once more and bowed his head slightly to Artemis, “Commandant.”

            “May we meet again,” Artemis also bowed her head slightly before placing a hand over the middle of her chest.

            With that, the little grey alien walked out of the infirmary on spindly legs, everyone clearing a wide path for him as it was definitely an unusual sight to see an Asgard in Atlantis.

            “Did I just get complimented by the one who always complains about us in Asgard?” Carson looked a bit shell-shocked and John nodded.

            “I think you did.”

                                                *                      *                      *

            Night had long fallen and the lights dimmed in the infirmary, but sleep was elusive to John as he twisted his legs slightly underneath the covers of his bed.  He was still hooked up to the machines, but at least the IV line was now disconnected.  After Hermiod had left, it had taken less than fifteen minutes and not even a single greeting from Artemis for her to leave with Apollo on a flat bed, devoid of any lines or tabs on him, keeping an eye on his vitals.

            Somehow, his area of the infirmary had felt emptier afterwards...

            But John had long forced himself to move past that fact.  Soldiers died every day and it was common for one family to request that their son or daughter be allowed to die instead of lingering in a vegetable-like state for the rest of their lives.  He had seen it in his stints in the various hospitals during his missions, and this was no different.

            He sighed, wishing he could shift to his side, to get more comfortable, but with his arm incapacitated and his cheek still feeling tingly and numb, he knew that any sort of pressure on either wound would cause more harm and probably more pain.  He had been allowed solid food and was feeling much better, but still, sleep was very elusive.  He probably slept too much during the rest of the day...

            Though he knew he had only awakened from his coma early this morning, he felt as if already a few days had passed for him.  So much had happened in the span of one day that he felt like he was stuck in a whirlwind he could not find his way out of.  But the thing that stuck most starkly out in his mind was Rodney comment about how Lorne had heard voices while he was near the Wraith'gul and how his second-in-command had come by and told him that fact himself.

            Truth be told, John was scared of such a thing.  He had long accepted the fact that when he had arrived at Atlantis, the city, somehow, seemed to respond to him and his presence in ways different than the others.  He had seen that subtly over the years, but having the city or even something remotely built by the Ancients talk to him?  Atlantis was a constant gentle hum in the back of his mind, but ever since he had woken up from his coma, he knew something was _different_.  Something had changed between him and the city – and for lack of better word, he couldn't exactly describe it.

            But what he knew was that the change probably had something to do with the Wraith'gul.  Was it for better or for worst, he did not know, but all he knew was that Atlantis now had a...voice...of sorts.  And it was scaring him.  He was a very private person and right now, the presence that was always Atlantis in the back of his mind felt like an invasion of privacy.  Like someone was always constantly watching him, looking at him...

            His brows knitted in puzzlement as he thought he heard a tinkling laughter in his mind.  Great, now he was really hallucinating.  But just as suddenly Atlantis' presence retreated slightly and this time, he really could not keep the frown off of his face.  The gentle hum that he had gotten used to for so long had seemingly died down a bit...  _Uh...thanks?_ He hesitantly thought towards the presence and to his surprise felt as if a tendril of an apology was put forth by Atlantis' humming presence.

            John sat up straighter.  Okay, now he was really loosing it. _Okay, Sheppard, calm down, you're probably overtired.  Beckett did say that you had just woken up from a two-week coma.  Do two week comas put people in a loop in seemingly like hearing things or even hearing things in their head?_    He forced himself to take deep calming breaths before his monitor rate shot up, alerting the night nurse on duty, and leaned back against his pillows once more.

            He forced himself to think of nothing, of the falling asleep, not even to worry about anything.  Sleep was what he needed...so he could get out of the infirmary sooner, to get back onto duty.  At least fifteen minutes later of thinking of nothing of sleep, and a few sheep jumping over fences, he finally felt the tugs of exhaustion pulling at him and allowed himself to finally relax...

            Just as he was about to fall into the twilight of sleep and awake, he felt the hum that was Atlantis swell slightly, almost like a light soothing pat of comfort, but before he could make his brain wrap around that, his exhausted mind surrendered itself to the oblivion of dreams.

                                                *                      *                      *

            Elizabeth stared at her report once more.  This time she had a solid three pages written and was not going to erase it all like she had done a couple of days ago.  Her report did not start with Atlantis-1's mission to M3R-154, but rather with a summarily dissertation of the Klisan'thus, the Furlings.  That would please the IOA and SGC since both were equally concerned about the presence of the missing fourth race of beings that had created a great alliance with the Asgard, Ancients, and Nox.

            She had included her thoughts on their government, hierarchy and the lessons she had learned from Artemis' brief visits to Atlantis before she had returned permanently to their main homeworld with the dying body of her brother Apollo.  It had been at least two days since that incident and they had not even heard a single peep from the Furlings.  Judging by Artemis' parting words, she knew that contacting them at this time would not go over well diplomatically.  It was a 'don't call us, we'll call you' message the head of the Agentus and member of the High Council had told them before she had left.

            Now she was at the point where she was to write about the actual mission itself that lead to them contacting the Furlings; the part that was giving her the most problems.  It was pretty straight forward to dispassionately write about what had happened, and she knew that she could do it, but there had been one complication that prevented her from doing such a thing.

            She hadn't confronted Major Lorne about it yet, hoping that he would come to her with the information, but she had been hearing rumors from some of the other military personnel and from Rodney who had accidentally mentioned something about it the other day, that Lorne had been hearing voices when near the proximity of the Wraith'gul.  Oddly, neither Rodney nor any of the others scientists and military personnel who had the Ancient gene therapy from Carson could hear the voices.

            That meant that it was only natural gene carriers.  She wanted to ask John, but he was deftly avoiding the conversation by being asleep each time she went to see him in the past couple of days.  And with Major Lorne also avoiding her whenever possible, she was half tempted to call him into her office and ask her what was going on.  Both the IOA and SGC were already making their irritation known about the lack of reports coming their way.

            She was about to reach up to tap her radio when a knock on the frame of her doorway made her look up to see John, standing in his black day uniform, casually leaning against part of the door frame.  He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, slightly sunken cheeks, and his left arm was still covered in bandages.  However, the most noticeable feature on him was on his face, four parallel lines starting from his cheekbone and ending at his jaw line.

            Carson had told her that the wound on his face had not healed in his short time in the sarcophagus and was infected when they cleaned it out, thus while it would heal, it would still leave scars.  Currently the bandage had been taken off, revealing still puckering pinkish skin, vivid against his face.

            “And here I thought wearing a giant white bandage against my face would draw more stares,” John cracked, smiling lopsidedly as he came in and sat down on one of the couches across from her desk.

            Her door hissed closed behind him gently, sensing a meeting.  Elizabeth was always amazed at how sentient and life-like the city could be at times, sensing when important meetings were to take place and when one needed privacy.  Sometimes though, the city was temperamental, especially if Rodney started to mess with its core systems.  She remembered that when they had only recently arrived and tried to jury-rig a workaround for the naquadah generators the city at first would not accept the commands, but after they had risen from the ocean, it had somehow accepted them, if somewhat grudgingly in her opinion.

            “Carson let you leave?” she asked even though she already knew the answer.  As much as she knew John's habits and dislike of the infirmary, she also knew that he would not leave until Carson gave the okay.  How he gave the okay, perhaps with some wheedling and pleading on John's part was probably why he had been released, but she wouldn't call him out on it.

            “Light duty,” he shrugged as best he could, “have to report back every day for...tests...”

            “Well, we don't really know what happened to you in the Wraith'gul,” Elizabeth tried to put it gently, “so Carson's just being cautious.”

            “I know,” her military commander looked away for a second before that mask of impassivity was back on his face.  The ever familiar mask she was long used to seeing on his face whenever he had something to hide or was uncomfortable with something.  She had hoped after working together for the past three and a half years he would have trusted her with his emotions, but she understood that he guarded himself carefully around others and rarely let them see more, especially if he was hurting or in pain – mental or physical.

            “So,” she cleared her throat slightly, “since you're back on light duty, I can expect to add your report to mine by tomorrow?  Stargate Command and the IOA are getting a bit impatient...”

            “Yeah...” John scratched the back of his head with his right arm, “about that...”

            Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, wondering what kind of story she was going to hear now.  She got the gist of it and some of the more gruesome details from Rodney and Teyla, Ronon being usually silent about such things, along with detailed reports from Caldwell, Carson, and Lorne.  Later, Teyla had pulled her aside and warned her that while John was within the Wraith'gul, he had been hallucinating orders from her to finish a suicide mission of sorts.  She had immediately asked Carson about it and their resident chief of medical had backed up that statement with blood work showing large amounts of a more potent version of the Blood of Sokar that SG-1 had encountered six and half years ago on a mission with the Tok'ra.

            It had explained why John was seemingly sleeping each time she had tried to visit him in the past couple of days and she had felt angry at what Taethos had done to him – to make him skittish around everyone he knew.  She was grateful that Teyla and Rodney were able to snap him out of his hallucination in order to stop himself from firing the Wraith'gul, but it had ultimately cost him his life.

            Over the past two and half weeks since the superweapon had been shut down Daniel Jackson and Rodney had made great progress on translating parts of the glyphs and text around the Wraith'gul and had discovered that no matter what had happened, the weapon was designed to drain the life of its user whether to shut it down or even fire it.  That was why the Ancients abandoned it and left it alone – and one of the main reasons why they programmed it so that only those with the natural gene who came after them would be able to use it.  Anyone who tried would not be able to fire it unless they were sure of their target and the finality of their decision.  If indecision happened, then it would still kill them, thereby hoping to scare the locals and anyone who came after them that it was truly a weapon of last resort.

            Elizabeth had suspected that if Apollo's sarcophagus was not there, John would be really dead by now and the expedition would have lost one of their more beloved members.

            “I...think I need to return to M3R-154,” John finally said after a few minutes of silence.

            His statement cut her off from her most recent thought and she stared at him, surprise filling her features.  “Why?”

            “Lorne...said that he was having problems shutting the thing down,” he looked decidedly uncomfortable and fidgeted slightly in his seat.

            She pursed her lips slightly.  She had gotten a quick report from Evan Lorne and that was when she heard the rumors about the natural Ancient gene carriers hearing voices around the Wraith'gul.  If John wanted to return...was it to finish overriding the safety protocols and shut down the weapon or was it an undue side-effect from the Wraith'gul.  Was it going to make him fire it again or finish killing him?  Though the potent Blood of Sokar was running through John's system while he was within the Wraith'gul, they still hadn't figured out whether or not it was the Blood of Sokar combined with the Wraith'gul's “voice” that made John try to fire the weapon or was it just the Blood itself.

            “Why?” she hoped John gave her a straight answer instead of evading it like he was prone to do.

            John hunched slightly in his seat, hands clasped together as he looked down at them before looking up at her.  “I know this is going to sound crazy, but...I heard voices.  Well, a voice while I was in that...thing.”

            She nodded, patiently waiting for him to continue.

            “Somehow, I think...I managed to convince it to...shut down,” John looked out of her windows, his gaze distant as he stared at the bustling activity down below and in the control room across from her office.  He turned back to look at her and rubbed his face, “I know it sounds crazy but-”

            “Two of Dr. Kusanagi's team reported this when they went to M3R-154,” Elizabeth cut him off gently, knowing that it was hard for him to admit what he had just admitted.  To any other person or even those working back on Earth, hearing voices was usually not a good sign and most of the time usually involved alien influences.

            Lt. Colonel Sam Carter had once experienced such an episode, but it was discovered that it was an Ancient named Orlin who had been communicating with her.  However, it had nearly drove her to think that she was crazy and even prompted General Hammond to tell her to take some time off for 'stress-related reasons.'

            Oddly when Carson and Lorne had first found John's body, they had not reported hearing anything.  It was only after they had returned to the planet a few days later that the rumors of hearing voices around the Wraith'gul had occurred.

            “Ah, yeah,” John scratched the back of his head again, “I talked to Lorne and he told me that it wasn't really talking with him, more like nudging him in the right direction.”

            “So why do you want to return to the planet?” she reiterated her question once more.

            “To make sure that the weapon can never be used again,” John's voice, hesitant earlier was now a lot stronger and she saw the conviction in his eyes, telling her that in no way shape or form was he under the influence of the Wraith'gul.  His most recent blood work had also showed no signs or traces of the Blood of Sokar, an antidote handily provided by Artemis when she had reported that they could not put John in the sarcophagus to finish its work.

            “I don't know John,” Elizabeth admired the conviction, especially since only days ago they weren't even too sure he would ever wake again, “we don't even know if-”

            “I don't think I'm ready for it either, but I want to make sure that no one else can use that thing for a long time,” he shrugged.

            “And you're sure that if it...talked to you, it won't influence you to fire the weapon once more?” she asked.

            She saw the spark of anger, followed by hurt, then some emotion she couldn't quite recognize.  Was it guilt?  But she definitely saw him suck in a quick breath before looking briefly away from her, his face falling back into an impassive mask.  She knew that whatever John had experienced under the influence of the Blood of Sokar, part of it had to do with her and there was no way he would ever talk about it.  Not until he was ready...and she wondered if he would ever be ready to expose that part of himself to her.  In the years that they have worked together, she had seen glimpses of his true nature, his selfless acts of compassion and of heroic kindness.  But she had also seen his ruthlessness and furious anger.

            She sighed softly and rubbed her left eyebrow, trying to relieve a small knot of tension that had settled in there.  “You have a go John, but the first sign that any of your teammates feel that something is wrong, they will pull you out there and Dr. Beckett is keeping you in the infirmary until we know what is wrong.”

            She knew it was a risk to send him back to the planet and superweapon that had killed him, but if it was the only way to ensure that the weapon was properly and fully shut down, she would do it.  Perhaps, when all of this was over, and in another few years of working with John, maybe he would finally open up to her and tell her what had spooked him so much to avoid her for the last few days.

            “Thanks,” he looked slightly relieved and stood up, his confident, lopsided smile back on his face.  He made a move to leave, the doors to her office hissing open quietly when she stopped him again.

            “Colonel,” she gave him a small smile, “for the record, I don't think we'll need to address the fact that you and some others of the expedition are hearing voices.”

            The smile grew slightly brighter and John nodded before heading out.  Elizabeth watched him leave before turning back to her report and started to type up the final parts of her report.  The only thing she would say about John's attempts to shut down the Wraith'gul was that the machine, no matter what, sucked the life out of its user and John had bravely sacrificed himself to do so.  No mention of voices, no mention of John returning to the planet to make sure the job was done.

            Sometimes, it helped to lie a little to the IOA, especially to appease their ruffled political feathers.

                                                *                      *                      *

            The last chevron on the gate locked into place and the kawoosh of the event horizon forming usually took John's breath away, but he was too busy slamming a fresh magazine on his P90 to really care.  Next to him, the rest of his team was doing one last check on their weapons and equipment along with Lorne and his team.  They weren't taking any chances and a couple of Lorne's men had outfitted themselves with heavy weaponry to bring along.

            It was a day since he had sort of, but not quite, asked Elizabeth for permission to step through the stargate back to the planet and while he was supposed to be on light duty, he had been given the okay for this mission.  However, it was conditional that after he returned, he was to go back to light duty, especially since his arm was starting to twinge slightly from the slightly restrictive dark blue battle uniform he was wearing.  His bandages had been a bit bulky and cumbersome to fit under the jacket, but so far it wasn't giving him too much trouble.

            “MALP's still showing clear readings,” he heard faintly from the control room on above them, recognizing Sergeant Amelia Banks' lilting tone.

            “Colonel you have a go,” he glanced up to see Elizabeth nodding her assent to them before he tossed her a casual salute and brought his P90 to bear before walking into the blue puddle-like wormhole.

            A brief flash of being pulled in all sorts of directions before his vision was filled with the familiar circular woody clearing of M3R-154.  He waved Lorne and his men forward before an all clear signal was given.

            “Getting no immediate life signs,” Rodney murmured holding up the Ancient life signs detector and sweeping it in a small circle.

            “Let's go,” he ordered as two from Lorne's team stayed behind to guard the gate and they started forward into the prickly bushes and woods.

            Their trip to the Wraith'gul was progressively faster than John had remembered, but then again, there was no one on the planet or even near the abandoned village and compound to stop them this time.  He had occasionally paused as a local woodland creature of sorts, looking like a cross between a deer and something with large rabbit ears leaped across their path.

            But as soon as they approached the clearing where the entrance to the catacombs of the Wraith'gul was, John started to feel a bit uneasy near the thing.  Compounding that fact was a slight hum of warning in his mind, no doubt his Ancient genes reacting to the proximity of the Wraith'gul.  He paused for second, staring at the black entrance a frown on his face.

            “Sheppard?” Ronon's heavy hand landed on his shoulder and he was startled from his momentary distraction.

            “Oh, yeah, anything McKay?” he asked, glancing at his best friend.

            “Um...no, but the power readings are quite faint, pretty similar to what we've encountered a week and half ago when we came back to make sure the thing was shut down.”

            “Sir, something just doesn't feel right about this.  I don't like going in there,” Lieutenant MacKenzie Lonergan spoke up.  John had specifically assigned him to Lorne's team for the purpose of testing out his theory.  Lonergan apparently was just a barely wet-behind-the-ears graduate of Air Force ROTC from a primarily aviator university down in central Florida, commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant, but apparently had shown that he had the Ancient gene naturally.

            When the Lieutenant had arrived on Atlantis, McKay had immediate set the junior officer to work to see how strong his gene was and while it took the Lieutenant some time to figure out how to work most of the objects that needed to be activated by the gene, the puddle jumpers had immediately lit up on contact.  And much to his chagrin, so did his favorite Jumper One.  Apparently the young man's gene expressed itself very naturally to flying – which explained civilian school, but not why he could not get into the Air Force Academy.

            John had found out through the boy's files that indeed Lonergan had applied and had even gotten a strong letter of recommendation from one of his state's senators, but he had been medically disqualified from entering the Academy so took the ROTC route.  Luckily, he wasn't medically disqualified through ROTC and John had a feeling that the kid was going to be a natural in piloting jumpers.

            So he gave Lonergan a curious look before glancing at Lorne who also shrugged. Unspoken words past between them, but the same thought was universal.  This definitely proved the theory that the Wraith'gul only affected natural gene carriers.  And if the Lieutenant was feeling uneasy, it also meant that Lorne was probably feeling it, but was too much of a professional to voice his discomfort.

            “Suck it up, Lonergan,” was the only thing John could say without voicing his own uneasiness and headed into the catacombs, his team following next to him.

            He saw Teyla draw up next to him and shot her a quick look out of the corner of his eyes and she smiled back.  It was the same smile she always gave him when she doubted that he was telling the truth, but the smile also spoke of her concern for him and he made a small shrugging movement.

            They arrived at the main chamber in short time, the humming warning a bit louder in John's head, an almost-but-not-quite buzz that was starting to annoy him.  The Ancients definitely did not want anyone to be messing around with the weapon, judging by how strongly he could hear the humming warning in his head.  However, he had a mission to finish and nothing would deter him from it.  The only saving grace was that there was no Wraith, no Genii, and hopefully no crazy psychotic Furling named Taethos around.

            “Still no life signs.  I think we're clear,” Rodney said again.

            John nodded but he didn't quite trust the life signs detector at this moment.  He remembered the cloaking devices that Taethos and his men wore to ambush them in the medical ward, and with information from the others, was told that once cloaked, the Furlings would not show up on the life signs detector.  “Set up a perimeter,” he ordered, “McKay, hook up and let me know the second anything changes.”

            He saw his friend give him a slightly dubious and unsure look, but nonetheless went over to a control panel and brought out his tablet, already hard at work.  Lorne and Lonergan were already sweeping the area along with Ronon.  He glanced to his left to see Teyla giving him a long look before she joined Ronon.  When the rest of his team had received their orders a few hours ago, Teyla had protested strongly against it, saying that they didn't know if going back to the Wraith'gul would kill him again or it would unleash the weapon's full force.

            She was the last person he would have expected to hear those words from, but when he had pulled her aside and asked her why she was so adamant and vocal, she had only looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite figure out.  She had then said that she would not like to go through that kind of mission again and had left him standing in the hall, confused.  John had a feeling that she wasn't telling him the whole truth, but his memory was somewhat fuzzy about the point where he had been under the Blood's influence and when he had regained his senses.

            Perhaps something happened during that time?

            “Okay, I'm in,” Rodney called from his station and John hurried over to him, pushing away all thoughts about Teyla's unusual behavior.

            “And?” he asked as he saw bars and power levels on the monitor.

            “It's still the same.  I think I've created an override just in case...” Rodney looked at him sideways, “well, just in case.”

            “Thanks,” that wasn't too reassuring as he stepped away from McKay and headed towards the circular platform that was the control center of the Wraith'gul.  Absently hooking his P90 back to his tac vest, he stared up at the control center, biting his lip.  There was no way he was ready for it, but...then again, he wondered when he will ever be if not now.

            Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he decided that it was now or never and stepped up to the circular platform.

            Nothing happened.

            “Well, that's uneventful,” he muttered mostly to himself.

            “Try putting your hands on the control panel,” McKay called from his station and he glared at him, but did as he was suggested.

            John immediately found himself sucked into a vortex of sounds, emotions, jumbled words and thoughts, pulling at him from all different directions.  Every one of them clambering to be the loudest, the strongest until it was just an unintelligible roar-

            “ _Hello, John._ ”

            He found himself staring at an ethereal looking face.  One he couldn't quite recognize, yet there was something familiar about it.  He realized that the...woman, if he or she could be called that looked a lot like his long deceased mother, yet it wasn't her.  He also saw hints of his ex-wife Nancy, and was that some of Teyla's facial features in there, even Elizabeth's!  Yet...she looked like Chaya, the Ancient he had fallen for a brief time.  Of all the faces, he couldn't quite tell who it was with the sheer amount of glowing bright lights that obscured everything else save for her ever changing face.

            He tried to open his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out.

            “ _It is all right_ ,” she smiled slightly, “ _you do not need to speak.  I am glad you have returned...  I purposely locked out Evan's efforts to shut me down because I wanted to speak to you once more.  I am glad you got my message._ ”

            Now John was confused.  Message...but did that mean that this...thing had manipulated Lorne to get him to come back here?  To kill him?

            “ _No, no_ ,” his appall apparently showed on his face as the woman-glowing-thing shook her head, “ _I do not want to harm you further.  You have proven your worth and your courage when you told me to save everyone at the cost of your own life.  You have past the test that was set before you and others before.  I value that._ ”

            She drew slightly closer to him, “ _I am here to deliver a warning.  Darkness will soon engulf everything you know.  When the time comes, you must be ready.  I will be here, as I have always been, supporting you, but there will be a time I will not be there for you.  You, like so many others, must walk the path alone.  Only then, will you succeed._ ”

            John looked at her, tilting his head.  He knew that they had made many more enemies, the Asurans and the Wraith.  But a coming darkness?  That sounded a lot like doom and portents that he had heard street beggars proclaim.  Come to think of it...this woman's voice was very similar to Atlantis' humming tinkling tone...

            A smile graced the woman's face and if it was possible, she glowed slightly brighter, “ _It is finally a pleasure to meet you, John Sheppard.  I am Atlantis._ ”

            John could only stare in shock.

            “ _I am her extension, given form to talk to those who would deign to activate the Wraith Killer.  I was developed by my creators to test those who wished the death of all within the galaxy.  If this was to be so, they would die first.  If this was not to be so, they would still die for their foolhardiness._ ”

            She blinked once, slowly, “ _I apologize for the deception, but it is within my programming to account for such things._ ”  Ducking her head slightly in a very human-like gesture she looked up again, a slightly impish smile on her face, “ _You are my second favorite, John, of all of your expedition members who inhabit my domain.  I would have talked to, I believe your...friend, I think your kind calls those who banter with each other, Rodney to thank him for his great efforts in saving my domain time and time again, but he does not talk naturally._ ”

            “ _I was able to hear his song, like many of the others of your expedition rather suddenly, but it is dissonant, warped, unable to be plucked or responded to.  So I communicate with you...and with others when I feel is my fancy._ ”

            Now John really knew he was probably going crazy, listening to all of this.  Something about a song?  Being Atlantis' second favorite?!  What was-?

            The woman's face opened up her mouth in laughter and John froze as he heard the familiar tinkling laughter that he had heard in the infirmary.  It sounded exactly like the kind of laughter he had heard before.  Maybe he wasn't going quite crazy...?  Sometimes having the Ancient gene was not a boon in his opinion.

            “ _Now_ ,” she stopped laughing and her face grew serious as she stepped back slightly, “ _I will do as you ask.  This will be the last time we will communicate like this.  In my domain, I am all encompassing...in here, I am but an interface._ ”

            The warm smile was back on her face before she started to fade away, “ _Sleep, John, before I do..._ ”

            John suddenly found himself back in the room, his hands lifting itself away from the control panel.  He blinked slightly and looked around.

            “Shouldn't you put your hands on the control panel?  Maybe it's a touch interface?” McKay spoke up, still staring at his tablet, “huh, that's odd.  The readings just dropped to zero.  They were just barely minimal only a second ago...”

            “Uh, I did put my hands on the control panel, you didn't see it?” he gave Rodney a puzzled look.

            “Uh, no...you just got up there and that's it...” now it was Rodney's turn to stare at him puzzled.

            John realized that his whole conversation with...Atlantis, or whatever was in the Wraith'gul had taken less than a split second and a slight nudge in the back of his mind felt like a confirmation.  But just to be on the safe side, he touched the panel with a bare hand and nothing happened.  “Huh,” he muttered before hopping off of the circular platform and unclipped his P90 again.  The Wraith'gul was truly shut down.  He still didn't quite believe it was Atlantis herself in the Wraith'gul, but if the machine had decided to shut down because of him, who was he to protest.

            “John?” Teyla turned from where she was standing, an eyebrow raised in concern.

            “It's done, time to go home,” the uneasy feeling had returned and he was all the more glad to get away from it.  He suppressed a crooked grin as he saw Lieutenant Lonergan nodding, also eager to get away from here.

            “Wait, how can you be sure?!” McKay protested and John pointed at his tablet.

            “Any power readings?”

            “No-”

            “Then it's shut down, we're going home,” he cut his friend off, getting a little annoyed.

            “But-”

            “Come on, little man,” Ronon loped over and grabbed Rodney by the back of his tac vest and hurried him along the path back through the catacombs, “Sheppard says its shut down, it's shut down.”

            “But I haven't...” the rest of Rodney's spluttering protest faded away as Ronon pulled him further away from John's hearing range.

            “Sir?” he saw Lorne giving him a look with a raised eyebrow, an unspoken question on his lips.

            “Don't ask,” he gestured back to the silent Wraith'gul.

            “Ah,” Lorne nodded once before joining Lonergan.  Message sent, message received.  That was why he trusted Lorne.  The man knew when to shut his mouth and when to speak up.  And if it involved the Wraith'gul, well, it was their secret...and Elizabeth's.

            “Are you all right?” Teyla's comforting voice spoke up next to him as they were the last to exit the catacombs.  Ahead, Lorne was already radioing his men to prepare for their arrival and Rodney looked like he was still complaining, Ronon just having his easy 'can-I-kill-him-later' smile on his face.  John figured it was a good thing that Rodney didn't usually work out in the gym...otherwise; Ronon would have enjoyed sparring with him a little too much.

            “Eh...” he glanced up at the sky and woods, contemplating whether or not to dismiss Teyla's concerns.  But, after all that had happened in the last few days...he still did not tell her what had happened when he had been hallucinating within the Wraith'gul.  How he had almost lost himself...  But glancing down at her, to see the warmth and concern in her eyes.  He would never tell her, he knew that now, but he could at least try to find some forgiveness for his weakness.

            “No,” he finally replied, “but I will be.”

 

~END~

 

**_Shadow Chaser's Question and Answer Session_ **

 

**Q: Where did you get this story idea from?**

**A:** I originally planned this to be yet another Kolya vs Sheppard fanfic to celebrate the Shep-whumping, when I realized I could throw in the fabled Furlings to boot!  However, once I started writing this story, I realized that the Furlings would end up being a major player and character in this story and thus had to change my summary several times.

 

**Q: Why did you make the Furlings the way they are in your story?  I thought they were koala-Ewok like from “200” in SG-1.**

**A:** According to the interviews I read on Gateworld and Sci-Fi channel's website, I get the impression that those “Furlings” in the episode were an inside joke and pun on how the writers never put the Furlings in any story.  There is one SG-1 episode “It's Good to Be King” that deals with the true Furlings, apparently they were very tall, potentially humanoid and had teleportation columns.  So I took that idea and ran with it, modifying and adding little bits of culture and nature to their society.

            I got the idea to base them off of Grecian/Roman Gods only b/c those are the only major pantheon that have not been explored in SG-1.  I also added that they were the original creators of Goa'uld tech because it is said that the Goa'uld are a scavenging race, and so where did their tech come from when they still have such primitive slave labor force.  The second and third part of this trilogy would go into more in-depth about the Furling-Goa'uld relationship.

 

**Q: So why Apollo?**

**A:** Because when I first planned this, I was currently watching Battlestar Galactica and wanted Jamie Bamber to play my character.  Oh the fangirl moment...forgive me.  ^_^  I also wanted him to have an unusual background, not so Gary Stu-like, but an unusual one that would explain why he is helping out Sheppard and the team, as to why he was initially deceived by Taethos.  Btw, a good reference picture for any Furling in general is a Togarian from the Star Wars Extended Universe – google it folks.

 

**Q: Are we going to see more Kolya?**

**A:** Yes, he will have a trial in part 2 that gets quite...interesting.  That's all I'll say about that.

 

**Q: What is the Wraith'gul and how is it related to Atlantis?**

**A:** I am of the belief that Atlantis is somehow “alive” to those with the Ancient gene, natural or therapy.  The Wraith'gul, I hoped was explained clearly, is an extension of Atlantis.  Designed as both a test and a weapon of last resort.  It is Pegasus' equivalent of the Dakara superweapon.  That is why it is able to activate through Atlantis and connect to Earth in order to completely make sure all life has been destroyed, in both galaxies.  However, Rodney and the others have not translated this part yet, they've only translated to the part where Atlantis' stargate is able to be forcibly activated and jump to Earth.

 

**Q: So John really died, but was brought back to life?**

**A:** Yup.  Conveniently placed sarcophagus...wouldn't you say?  I like killing my favorite characters.  And sometimes bringing them back to life...if I'm in a good mood.

 

**Q: What's with the ships?**

**A:** I am a fan of many ships in Atlantis...mostly hetero though for some odd reason.  I understand that there are people who see differently, but this is how I express my love for certain fandoms... (and hatred towards the writers who screwed up some of the early ships and killed off certain characters *cough*Carson, Elizabeth*cough*).  But if you will, I am a Shep/Weir leaner with slight tiltings towards Shep/Teyla and Teyla/Ronon.  Though I recently became a fan of McKay/Keller and Ronon/Keller.

 

So if you the reviewer have any other questions regarding this story and _Sleep Before I Do_ , don't hesitate to ask!  See you folks in my next _Stargate Atlantis_ offering!


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